Pieces
by Falia7
Summary: Little oneshots from bursts of inspiration. Perpetually both in-progress and complete. Twentieth: The deliberate, pre-planned usage of the Bazooka to take the Tenth Gen. to the future is calculated to three months shy of ten years. Used normally, however, it takes them exactly ten. Three months before the start, a misfire gives a horrifying glimpse of what may yet be.
1. Point of View

_Been a long time since I've posted anything at all, but here._

 _Wherein Sawada Tsunayoshi is kind, clumsy, sweet, shy, easily startled, and somehow (accidentally) an absolute BAMF._

 _ **(Point of View)**_

The students of Nami-chuu, despite common belief, aren't actually oblivious.

They're just not stupid, either.

See, when the Head of the Disciplinary Committee happens to be Hibari Kyoya, even the most arrogant bullies learn when to keep their heads down. He may have a tendency to ignore normal human words wherever possible and insert strange animal metaphors everywhere else, but no one native to Namimori will deny that the youngest Hibari is, was, and probably always will be utterly terrifying.

Then comes Gokudera Hayato. He's no Hibari—his temper is more relatable, if very, _very_ short—but he's his own special brand of intimidating. Part of it is his casual disregard for authority. Part of it is because at least five people saw him throwing what looked like _dynamite_ at dame-Tsuna the very afternoon he'd transferred in. (Whatever he'd been throwing, it certainly exploded. The damage had been cleaned up between nightfall and dawn, but between school and evening, plenty of people had seen it.)

Part of it is the fact that he's an absolute, eidetic-memory-wielding _genius_ with a special insight for science and mathematics. Also, he's _at least_ bilingual and a not-so-secret cryptozoology fan. Those things would have labeled him some kind of nerd if not for the excessive use of explosives.

Correction: the casual disregard for authority—except Sawada Tsunayoshi's. Gokudera picks fights with _Hibari_ when given the chance, goes out of his way to make the teachers look stupid, and goes absolutely murder-them-all crazy when anyone badmouths Tsuna. _Dame_ -Tsuna, the weak little clawless kitten of a boy whose desk Gokudera had literally kicked out from under him the morning they'd met and who he'd then called out behind the school and thrown explosives at.

Of course the whole school knows. It's just… no one's dumb enough to mention it again after the first warningly whispered rumor.

Still, Gokudera is a foreigner. Who knows what kind of weird customs Italians had? Maybe the explosive thing was some kind of rite-of-passage or maybe something had happened as the students who'd noticed had made themselves very, very scarce. Maybe it was some kind of life-debt thing, where ever-kind Tsuna had done something stupid and selfless and knocked him away from a mis-thrown bomb. (The speculation generally cut off there, before anyone could get more ridiculous.)

So, anyway, Gokudera worshiped dame-Tsuna, and you did not call Tsuna 'dame' or anything like it in his hearing range. Simple enough rule. They dealt with Hibari and his list, they could handle the simplicity of 'don't badmouth Sawada where Gokudera may even possibly hear of it'.

Then Yamamoto, their baseball star, gets pushed and pushed and pushed too far, his teammates trying to get him to carry them all (the kendo club is appalled, because they aren't a team sport but they're still a _team,_ and they support each other and a team that's supposed to act as a team on the field that puts everything on one person and then ignores him is terrible), and it hasn't been so very long since Yamamoto's lost family and something in him cracks and cracks and cracks until he gives in and it's _dame-Tsuna_ who saves him.

No one's quite sure how. (Or, rather, everyone's certain the exact methodology is some kind of mass hallucination, and they settle on the fact that he _did_ and leave it at that.)

Yamamoto still loves baseball, is still the star of the team, but he drifts away from the people who'd proven they weren't really friends in favor of dame-Tsuna and Gokudera. It isn't surprising; Tsuna had saved his life and given him something to hold on to all at once.

Then the school idol's older brother joins the… well, it's certainly not a clique. Or a herd, no matter what Hibari-san calls it. Considering the chaos that reigns wherever they walk, the school as a whole decides on 'fray' despite the fact that the four don't seem to be fighting against anything but, you know, _normality._

Sasagawa Ryohei, captain of the Boxing Club, is very… _extreme._

He does not seem like a follower. (Then again, neither do Gokudera and Yamamoto.) Somehow, he follows dame-Tsuna anyway.

(It's becoming clear that dame-Tsuna isn't so dame, but still the unkind nickname persists.)

Somehow, though, the true reality doesn't click for the school body until one day Hibari-san is more irritable than normal, to the point where his tonfa come out for mere normally-respectable-distance proximity, and when a careless passing high-schooler tosses trash into their school grounds (missing the trash can he was probably aiming for, but either not noticing or not caring), the demon in human guise just kind of _snaps._

He doesn't even give warning, darting across the yard so fast that it's only long acquaintance with his presence that has students and staff realizing what's happening.

There's a sharp sound, metal hitting skin-covered bone, a half-panicked yelp, and a darkly acknowledging grunt from Hibari-san.

It takes several seconds for the scene to process.

The high-school student is sprawled on the sidewalk, eyes wide with fearful shock, and blocking Hibari-san's tonfa with a bare forearm is _dame-Tsuna_. Dame-Tsuna who doesn't look at all clumsy or shy or incompetent, doesn't look _dame_ , and is meeting Hibari's gaze with even disappointment while somehow not having had his arm bones shatter.

"Kyoya," he says, that same disappointment in his tone. "You know better. Control yourself—you would have killed him with that strike."

There is a long, long moment of silence before Hibari pulls back, putting his tonfa away and looking ever so slightly chastened. He doesn't protest the use of his given name, instead dipping his head in acknowledgement before saying, "Omnivore," and turning to walk away.

Tsuna sighs, shakes his head, and turns to help the high-schooler back to his feet. "Pick up your trash, please, senpai."

The teen does as he's told, wide-eyed, and Nami-chuu finally realizes that dame-Tsuna… really isn't.

(Of course it took _Hibari-san_ respecting him to make the nickname disappear.)

 _xxxx_


	2. A Glimpse of Desperation

_**Warning: Talk of suicide.**_

A _mishap with the Bazooka swaps Xanxus and Tsuna just in time to hear part of an argument between their ten-year-older selves. Those watching don't get the whole story, but the dread left behind may never leave. Mildly AU, premise of 'Xanxus finds out Tsuna's plan very shortly before implementation.  
_

 ** _(A Glimpse of Desperation)_**

"—have to _try!_ " came roaring out of pink smoke, and Reborn wasn't the only one to blink. As a matter of fact, the Varia and the Decimo Guardians (as of not very long, with Squalo still stuck in a wheelchair and Lussuria only just able to walk again) all stopped their very audible bickering, except Lambo who had been easily sidetracked by grape candy while rooting through his own pocket-dimension hair (because really, that's the only explanation for the storage capacity).

… the distraction had resulted in the Ten-Year Bazooka falling to the floor and firing, managing to shoot Tsuna and an irate Xanxus at the same time.

Ergo, that was Tsuna from ten years in the future, though whether he'd actually been roaring at Xanxus of the same time or had it had been someone else entirely was yet to be made clear.

"You fucking _idiot!_ " nope, that was Xanxus, and it sounded like the same conversation so far. "You _know_ what will happen if you do this!"

"And I know what will happen if I _don't!_ "

The startled silence became a stunned one, and Reborn felt something like ice settle into his chest, his amusement completely crushed in a well of dread.

"Hell, you think we wouldn't _prefer_ it, baby boss? You have to know we'd _all_ rather go down fighting!"

"This is bigger than Vongola," Tsuna snapped back, the pink smoke clearing to show a form that may have filled out but was still slight, wearing black slacks and a white shirt, facing off against a desperately angry older Xanxus, "Hell, this is bigger than the _mafia!_ It's not just about us anymore—you _know_ this is the only chance we have left!"

"'We'? There won't _be_ a 'we' if-" Xanxus scoffed back, words breaking off in a helpless sort of snarl, and the two were either so caught up they hadn't noticed the change in scenery or they had just recognized the Flame-signatures around them enough that they didn't care. "Damn you, Tsuna—don't ask this of me," his voice broke for just a moment, the rage wavering into something a lot more like grief as he grabbed the white shirt and dragged the older Tsuna close. "Don't-don't _do_ this."

Tsuna closed his eyes for a moment before reaching up and hugging Xanxus, which had the shock shift again before he spoke, "I'm sorry," Tsuna said gently, "I am _sorry_ , but I _have_ to die to give the rest of you a chance. If we lose this war, there will be _nothing left,_ and this is the _only_ thing I can do that might shift the tide, Xanxus. My life—for this to work, it _has_ to be taken."

"The hell am I going to tell everyone else?" Xanxus asked, sounding utterly lost as a sickening horror sank into Reborn's stomach while he listened to sounds of disbelieving distress from Tsuna's Guardians. "The hell am I going to tell your _Guardians?_ "

Tsuna pushed back a bit and pulled out a sealed envelope, glancing at his audience briefly before dismissing them, "Your orders, Xanxus," he said quietly. "When the Bazooka's time runs out, I am going to walk out that door—I'm not so cruel as to make you _watch_. You are going to take those orders and get them back to base, and you are going to bring that bastard down. But this is the only way left for me to give you the opportunity— _don't_ waste it."

He turned his head, then, surveying the startled and horrified watchers, and said simply, "When this day comes—remember, I love you all and… I am so, _so_ sorry _._ "

Xanxus startled and looked around, noticing where he was for the first time, his eyes widening when they fell on the Varia and he breathed out, " _Mammon,_ " like a prayer.

Tsuna's gaze dipped to meet Reborn's squarely, "Reborn. Forgive me."

And then there was pink smoke, and two people who belonged in this time with no idea what had just happened, back from a room empty of any but them.

For the first time, there was only confusion and horror left in the wake of pink smoke.

(Reborn had the time to consider the implications later. He and Viper were dead, then, and Tsuna soon to be. If two of the Arcobaleno had fallen, it was likely they all had, whether to a new set or something else he didn't know. Tsuna… what Tsuna spoke of was suicide, and that… that was something he didn't want to think of in relation to his student, no matter what his reasons were. From the sound of the argument, it hadn't been despair or selfishness but _desperation_ , a last-ditch attempt to save his family, his own Flames fueling something that might be able to give them some kind of edge… much like the Arcobaleno Sky Pacifier could be used to resurrect their fallen, taking Will and Life as fuel. And— _Dio,_ was that it? Was _Tsuna_ the holder of the Sky Pacifier in ten years? Was he spending his life to buy back theirs?

What had _happened?_ )

 _xxxx_


	3. Vongola Decimo

_Sawada Tsunayoshi is Vongola Decimo._ _Sawada Tsunayoshi is not a Mafia Don. The Dons do not immediately notice the difference.  
_

 ** _(Vongola Decimo)_**

Everyone in the Mafia knows what Vongola Decimo says about protecting his Family. _Everyone._ He made his stance clear at his inauguration. The lowest members of Vongola have a cautious hope to them that they hadn't been given even under the Nono.

The Dons see this as an exploitable weakness. All they had to do was break the faith in the Decimo, and his Famiglia would waver. The _Vongola_ would waver.

The Breccino Family makes the first move. They aren't a powerful Famiglia, but they are good at information gathering and discretion. They don't need to be powerful—they are the hidden recluse, whose bite leaves a wound that invites infection until those bitten fall to fever that has nothing to do with the venom in its tiny fangs.

They take a member of Vongola.

They are careful: they take one of the Nono's old drivers, a middle-aged man who, according to everything they can find, has only met the Decimo once in passing. He has a daughter who works as a maid in the Vongola Mansion, but she is timid and shy. If the Decimo has seen her, it is doubtful they've spoken.

They want the face to be recognizable, but only just. They don't want to rouse more than irritation.

Vongola Decimo claims he will protect _all_ of his Family to the best of his ability, and if they can shake the faith those people hold in his word, they will have made progress.

They send a message with a video—proof of life. They are careful to ensure the man is only a little roughed up, and not injured. They give his name and position in the letter with the video, and a simple demand.

The Decimo is to come to their base, alone and unarmed, at a set time. If he does not, the driver will be killed.

It is an obvious trap. They believe he won't do it. They are risking little, but stand to gain for it. He cannot be so foolish as to not see the trap for what it is, and the matter is not personal. He may seek reparation, but they believe his ire will not be too great.

Instead, Vongola Decimo complies with their demand, coming to them alone, wearing only the ornate dual-ring marking his station, Vongola Famiglia engraved across the bars of an 'X'-crossed gemstone beneath a lion's face. He has dressed simply; he wears gray slacks and a white sweater.

Baffled and worried, they check him and find no weapons. He has a card-case with his identification, a credit card, and a few business cards on him that they confiscate, but nothing else.

They cannot kill the Decimo. Vongola would seek revenge.

They think they can use him as a bargaining chip.

They are wrong.

He goes with them peacefully, allowing them to cuff his hands behind his back and following them with nothing more than a deep concern in his eyes, and no fear. He says nothing.

The moment he sees the Vongola man he doesn't even know, he vanishes.

Broken bits of chain rain around his escorts' feet, and a screeching crunch like a car wreck has them spinning back to face the cell with the Vongola Nono's old driver.

The Decimo is in the cell, and the near-solid steel door is mangled, twisted and glowing with heat where it is flung in a corner.

There is fire on the Decimo's forehead, and he snaps the chains holding the driver, leaving the cuffs as they are while the man stares at him in something like awe.

One of the 'escorts' panics, pulling out a gun and shooting haphazardly into the cell. The Decimo is in front of his driver in less time than it takes to blink, facing them as something blazes and not even flinching when the first bullet hits him. By the time the second arrives, he's wearing a black mantled cloak, holding it in such a way that Sky-Flame edged cloth is between him and the shooter. Lead splashes off it like molten rain.

The other men panic and start shooting as well.

Guns click empty, and Vongola Decimo is _moving._

Within moments, the Breccino men are unconscious and the Decimo is gently gathering the stunned Vongola driver into one arm, making sure the cloak covers him.

Then they are flying, Decimo shooting up _through_ six floors of the base into the air before heading towards the Vongola Mansion at a speed that should have been impossible.

No one has died. The injuries are minimal. The holes punched through the Breccino base can be repaired.

The Decimo arrives at Vongola Mansion and touches down gently, Flames on free hand and forehead flickering out as he sets the driver on his feet. His Guardians rush out to surround them, and the Decimo staggers.

The driver is the one to catch him, and then the Sun is there, gold-glowing hands testing the injury before he growls, barking demands at the others.

The Decimo is brought into the medical wing, unconscious and bleeding. Another Sun-user, a famous too-small hitman called Reborn, quickly joins the Sun Guardian and the doctors in the surgery room.

Within hours, the Decimo is awake and talking, and his men nod and smile and crowd closer.

The Decimo makes an order sound like a request, and the Cloud Guardian disappears into the mechanics' experimentation room while the Mists simply vanish.

Four hours later, the Breccino Family is bankrupt, their weapons mysteriously destroyed without a one of them knowing when or how it had happened—even the ones they had been holding. A copy of the same demand is pinned on every door.

They are disbanded within a day. Not one of them has been killed, and the Decimo is fully healed before the next sunrise.

Vongola's faith in their new leader grows solid and multiplies, and the other Dons find out what had happened by the end of the week.

Rumors spread.

Those were not the actions of a Mafia Don, but Vongola Decimo had told them all that he would burn Vongola and the Mafia to the ground if he decided they could not be saved.

The Dons are wary. This is unexpected, unknown. The Decimo is peaceful, but he had forcibly disbanded an entire Familglia within a single day _._

One thing has been made clear: you do _not_ mess with Vongola. The Family in question had been shattered for taking one of the lowest members, a mere driver that the Decimo barely knew the face of.

The Decimo had said he would protect _all_ his Family to the very best of his ability.

He had not been lying.

 _xxxx_


	4. FireBorne

_Side note: if anyone wants to adopt from my pieces, do feel free. Please let me know about it, though, so I can see what you do with them!_

 ** _FireBorne_**

They thought the worst was behind them having faced monsters in men's guise, broken worlds and broken pasts, futures undone, curses and world-binding unraveled and rewoven.

Of course they were wrong.

Scattered, useless, powerless compared to the _thing_ before them, a thing that held no place in any world, broken free from the breaking of so many futures and settling before them in a mass of hungry greed. Flames touched it, but did not stop it—mere irritants against its power.

It batted them aside with something that might have been limb or thought, darker than Vindice's Flames, denser than Enma's gravitational wells (not black holes, no matter what they'd thought as startled children, for even one black hole was a warp in space that would have swallowed the solar system within the heartbeat of its birth) and one of them stood again.

Their Sky.

When none of them were able to face down what they fought, Sawada Tsunayoshi always, _always_ stood back up. Moved before them, a shelter that they had never asked for but had been granted all the same.

Once again, there he was, Flames on hands and forehead, placing himself steadily between this thing of eldritch nightmare—orange-gold Flame, purest Sky, and when the shadow batted him down, crushing him beneath a well of darkness so deep and heavy that they could no longer _feel_ him…

It was Reborn, no longer cursed pacifier swinging free as he pushed himself back to his hands and knees, who spat out a mouthful of blood and _chose_ to believe. "Tsuna… will never let us down," he growled at the mocking not-voice in their minds.

Half-conscious, Gokudera heard Tsuna's name, but his belief had never been in question. Juudaime was his all, his reason, his _faith,_ because Juudaime had always been a mark of everything _good_ in the world, and Juudaime would not _let_ this thing broken of massed fear and hate take those he'd fought so hard to gain. Too dizzy to even try to speak, all he did was smile.

Scattered across a broken landscape, the others agreed—Mukuro knew it with all he was, no matter how much he'd never say it aloud, and Chrome backed his faith with hers. Hibari smirked, shifting to his knees and tightening his grip on cracked tonfa.

Yamamoto laughed breathlessly, a worn shinai in his hands as Ryohei managed a tired "Extremely."

Further back, Xanxus spat a curse that was as knowing as it was defiant, the other Varia in agreement that not a _one_ of their people was dead, because the Baby Boss wouldn't stand for that.

Former Arcobaleno pushing up to their knees, not reaching for the flames stored in cracked pacifiers because they all had that same sure knowledge that they didn't need to, not yet. Tsuna would get up, he would _win,_ he would burn away this stain on reality and only then would they be needed, to pick up and patch together the world under their Sky.

Others across the battlefield, those who'd seen the faith of their strongest and heard the stories and started to believe themselves.

Beneath crushing darkness, something _sparked._

The fire on his forehead had ever been Sky, but never so pure a Flame. Always, the Flames on his hands had been purest, where his gloves filtered his already beautiful Flames to make them shine cleaner still, but now the fire on his forehead was just as brilliant a sunset-flare.

The darkness melted around him, and the battlefield trembled with something that might have been fear except it was only hateful rage.

Tsuna's eyes shone the color of his Flames, turning towards the mass of brokenness with a strangely compelling pity.

 ** _"Come."_**

A single word, spoken quietly, that crashed down over those gathered like a thunderclap. As always, Tsuna had risen greater than before, but this time—this time something was different _._

The darkness, only half-real, surged up to meet him.

He did not dodge, nor did he attack. Instead, he raised a flameless hand and set it against the rising sense of _broken_ , sunset eyes bright-glowing but gentle. **_"You were not meant to be this way,"_** Tsuna informed, and the darkness simply halted.

The cracks in reality that made up its body started to mend, the twisted not-shadow of its being fading.

The impressions it left in their minds went from hate-rage-hate-fury-greed-hunger to _healing_ , and then a sense of relief so profound that none of them remained upright.

 ** _"Be at peace,"_** it was a command, a farewell, a blessing. The unnatural shadow over the place that had been their battlefield, had been its entry point into the reality they lay in… slipped away.

Tsuna looked down at the destruction left in the wake of their struggle, and something in his eyes _flickered,_ his Flames blazing too bright to look at.

Reborn gasped as his broken ribs snapped back into place in a way that Sun-healing could not achieve, _heat_ sweeping through him until his breath came easy. All around, wounds and damage were being wiped away.

Something was different.

They looked up, and Tsuna… something about him was so, so _different_ while remaining exactly the same. He was somehow _more._

"Tsuna?"

Sunset eyes turned towards them, **_"Reborn."_**

His voice… _resonated._

"What happened to you?" Reborn breathed out, while the others seemed in to much shock to speak.

 ** _"You had faith."_**

That didn't make sense, did it? What did it even mean? Yes, he had faith—but he'd had faith in Tsuna for a long time, and most of the others had, too. What was different?

 ** _"This time,"_** Tsuna informed, quiet and crashing, **_"so did I."_**

Reborn frowned.

 ** _"Many, many times I have had determination,"_** Tsuna mused, the land around them pulling cracks together and sprouting out new growth, **_"but this time I had_** **faith** ** _."_**

It was Yamamoto who choked out the answer, seeming to realize something that none of the others had managed to piece together. "'It takes faith to make a god,'" he quoted, sounding stunned for the first time any of them could remember.

It clicked. The change, the sheer overwhelming crash of voice and gently overpowering swell of his Flames…

Their faith in their Sky had birthed a _god._

 _xxxx_


	5. Loud Noises

_The first time a thunderstorm rolled over Namimori while Reborn was there, he saw Tsuna flinching at the sound of thunder. As it turned out, Tsuna wasn't actually phobic._

 ** _Loud Noises_**

The storm had swept in fast and heavy, catching Reborn and his clumsy charge halfway home from the shrine. (Reborn had been working on Tsuna's dodging skills. It was gratifying to see his student improving.)

The distant grumble of thunder had been the first warning, and a quick glance had shown the gray sheets of rain drawing closer at a frankly alarming rate, and that was not the kind of weather Reborn wanted to be teaching in, _especially_ not with such a new student. Tsuna would probably end up getting seriously hurt, and that wasn't an option.

Still, they only made it halfway before the storm caught them, the heavens pouring out veritable waterfalls as flickers of light danced across the clouds.

It wasn't until the first flash of proper lightning that Reborn saw his student's unhappy grimace. He frowned.

Then the thunder hit, and Tsuna _flinched,_ stumbling several steps as his hands went up to his ears and Reborn stared.

Yes, Tsuna was often timid, but this was ridiculous. While not unheard of, there were fairly few humans who were afraid of _thunder,_ and most of those who were had some kind of similar-sounding very negative experience. A mafia boss could not be afraid of storms.

A second crash, and Tsuna gritted his teeth, a low gasp escaping him.

Reborn sighed. Tsuna was a kid—soaking wet (Leon was obligingly providing umbrella-shelter enough that Reborn himself was only damp) and thrown head-first into a situation he had no desire to be in that he hadn't even been aware might _exist_ because his idiot father had kept his family in the dark. Reborn could afford to handle a phobia in a gentle manner.

There was a covered bus stop not far, and they could take shelter there before Reborn tried to talk Tsuna down.

"Come on, dame-Tsuna," Reborn hopped to his shoulder, which forced Tsuna to drop one arm but also provided his head with some Leon-granted rain protection. "We can wait out the storm at the bus stop."

Then another flash- _boom_ and Tsuna staggered with a sharp sound, and up close even the storm-dark couldn't hide the subtler bits of his expression.

That wasn't fear _._ That was _pain._

"Tsuna?" he asked sharply.

"I don't have my earplugs," Tsuna managed, working his jaw slightly as he reached up to rub behind his ears.

Earplugs. Hyper Intuition, linked in with the senses. Close thunder without even walls to blunt the sound.

Of _course_.

There was a convenience store not much farther than the bus stop—they would have earplugs. However, with that in mind, it explained why Tsuna flinched every time Lambo or Gokudera blew something up despite his increasing familiarity with it. He'd have to see about getting a set of headphones with noise-dampening past a certain decibel—not _cancelling,_ of course, that was dangerous. But so was flinching in pain every time someone blew something up or shot a normal gun or even shouted at his 'extreme' subordinate's level nearby.

"Keep going, then, Tsuna. The store will have earplugs."

The quick, grateful glance made Reborn feel a little warm, despite the pouring rain.

(Also, good, because astraphobia would have been ridiculous and a pain to treat and ligyrophobia* would have been even _worse._ Something that could be handled by simple noise-dampening was so much better—and could be trained into an asset.)

 _xxxx_

 _*Astraphobia is a fear of thunder and/or lightning, while ligyrophobia is the fear of loud noises in general. (There are other terms for both, but such is the way with most phobia-terms.)_


	6. Not What it Looked Like (NotReally R27)

_So, I have no idea what this one is. Really. It just... warped in. Sorry._

 ** _Not What it Looked Like_**

Tsuna was used to Reborn's physical nature—the (last) Sun Arcobaleno was not unlike the others in that. Colonnello, Lal, Fon, and even Skull were prone to touching as well, though Skull wasn't violent and Fon _usually_ wasn't. The others, though, had fought their way to the top, been rendered close to helpless, and fought their way back up again.

In their methods of doing so, they had generally grown accustomed to having to _physically_ imprint that they _were not weak_ on the Famiglia that would have used them. Verde and Mammon had other advantages, but even Fon had been forced to beat the Triads into leaving his student alone. Skull had not started out Mafia, but stuntman— _showman_ —that he was, he had other ways of inciting respect from the mindless masses.

Reborn wasn't a toddler anymore, and in the four years it had taken for him to return to something approaching his proper physical age prior to being cursed (which had consisted of constant hunger and growing pains for all the de-cursed Arcobaleno), he hadn't actually lost the habit of 'grapple first, order later'.

So, no, it wasn't the first time his tutor had pinned him to a wall for one reason or another, though it was the first time he'd not been irritated or generally demandingly spartan.

No, this time, Tsuna wasn't sure why Reborn was upset—he'd woken feeling poorly and had found his health declining throughout the morning. He'd gotten up from his desk at around eleven with the intent of grabbing some medicine and maybe tea, head pounding and thoughts a little fuzzy, when Reborn had walked in, taken one look at him, and shoved him up against the nearest wall with a growl that sounded more worried than angry.

"Dame-Tsuna…"

Tsuna blinked at him, fuzzy mind not providing the answers that he knew he should be able to come up with.

"You're burning up," Reborn muttered, leaning closer to peer into his eyes, and Tsuna heard a startled sound from the still-open door but found a rush of dizziness stealing his focus and balance alike.

He sagged forward, forehead hitting Reborn's shoulder as his knees tried to give out, and the hitman gave a startled grunt and caught him, glancing over towards the doorway sharply.

There was a rushing in his hearing, like wind and waterfalls, and he couldn't understand what was happening as Reborn snapped something at whoever was there.

That was okay, though. Reborn was right in front of him, and Reborn was _safe._ It would be fine if he just rested a bit. Reborn could be mean, but he knew when Tsuna really needed to sleep.

He closed his eyes.

 _xxxx_

That. Was. Enough. Reborn took one look at Sawada Iemitsu heading towards him and raised Leon in his favored handgun-form, pulling the trigger twice without hesitation.

The idiota dodged, but even against someone like Iemitsu, Reborn's aim was impeccable. The man yelped, a line scored across his cheek and the shoulder of his suit torn just enough to show a second line below. "If you also accuse me of untoward acts to a _minor under my care,_ I will put the next one between your eyes."

How the hell had cornering Tsuna (because half-delirious, the only way to get him to hold still was to physically corner him) to check his pupils (which had been _completely justified_ , because they'd been so wide he'd have thought 'drugged' if not for the fever) ended with half of Vongola accusing him of sexual relations with his— _underage_ —student and the other half insinuating that he was courting in the proper, non-sexual way?

(Which. Okay. During his condensed puberty as a rapidly-growing no-longer-cursed Arcobaleno, he _may_ have wondered. But he'd always been straight, and aside from that bit of curiosity—because _Tsuna,_ who could and did make _mass-murderers_ fall in love with him—he hadn't entertained untoward thoughts. He loved the kid, he did. But… just, no. Despite appearances, he was sixty _._ Tsuna was a seventeen-year-old virgin and Reborn didn't care what Japanese age of consent was, he wasn't ever going to be the one to make a move on his student.)

"But-but-but you _kissed_ my Tuna-fishy!"

Where the hell had _that_ come from?

" _Dio,_ " Reborn wasn't sure if he was cursing or praying for patience, because the only thing worse than maid-gossip was _Vongola_ maid-gossip. "He was delirious with a fever so high that he couldn't walk straight. All I did was make him hold still and check his pupil response. How the hell did that turn into _kissing?_ "

 _xxxx_

 _Note that I have nothing against slash and equally nothing against R27. Still, as forceful a personality as Reborn is, he also has a very strict gentleman's honor code. It's a little obscure and warped, but it's there. Thus: I have a great deal of trouble seeing Reborn make the first move on someone so much younger than him if he was serious about them. I can definitely see him not caring if he wasn't serious, but this is the guy who cared more about Tsuna's growth than his own life, so… Aside from being a bit extreme, it's a mark of excessive overprotectiveness; because he was working under the assumption that he wouldn't be there for Tsuna much longer, so he had to make sure the kid could protect_ himself.


	7. Sky

_I don't even know._

 ** _Sky_**

Lal doesn't realize it until she hears a question from one of the lower-ranked CEDEF directed at Turmeric—who probably isn't the best person to be asking that particular question, considering he barely knows the Vongola Decimo.

"What kind of Sky is he?"

Lal is busy, heading to train up some of the intermediate recruits (her memories 'gifted' from that future-that-wasn't are fragmented, but it gives her a great appreciation for just how _much_ Tsunayoshi is capable of handling when it's thrown at him), but the question sticks in her mind.

Her 'class' is not given anything like a reprieve for the distraction, but she thinks about it even as she barks out instructions and corrects stances.

Lal Mirch may have been military before she became Mafia, but she _knows_ Skies. She had wanted one _so badly_ when she realized what they meant, but Luce had already had her Set and could not take another. Iemitsu… she respected the man as a boss, but as much as she wanted a Sky, she just didn't mesh well enough for it to be him.

That made her look into it. There were, broadly speaking, two accepted groups of Sky with an occasional outstanding third type of Wrath, that were more corrupted by rage than anything else. In theory, they weren't born with Wrath, but something happened that caused a change. If that was the case with the only Wrath currently living, it had happened very young.

Xanxus' mother had brought him before the Ninth already able to manifest those destructive Flames, after all.

'Classic' Skies were like the day, bright and welcoming to any who stepped willingly into their sight, provided those who did were honest in their words and ways. 'Inverted' Skies were more like night, hiding their true motivations and accepting only those able to see in their darkness, cutting down any who threatened that enveloping shadow.

Wrath—Xanxus, at any rate—was more like the twilight. Taking in only those who could not bear the light of day, but hated also the darkest hours of night. His Varia were violent and largely _insane,_ but they all had a strange honor to them.

Tsunayoshi… she had thought, at first, that he was Classic. He was no Invert, not at all like Iemitsu, and his Flames were so pure that even briefly entertaining the thought of Wrath was ridiculous. But…

He wasn't. Classic, that was. Tsunayoshi wasn't day or night or twilight; he was something else entirely.

It bothered her for days. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how _different_ he was—he had two Mists amongst his claimed Guardians, already one more Element than she'd ever heard of another Sky holding. Most never bonded a Cloud and few held more than one of the same Element, but those who did usually had secondary affinities for the type, and only held two or three total. It was not uncommon (relatively speaking, as Skies were uncommon themselves) to find Skies with partial sets, and some with only one Element.

But Tsuna had seven, a full Set and a second Mist.

… Then she took a good look at everyone else around him, and started to think that the 'seven' might be understating. The Sun Irie Shoichi was a child in this time, even more timid than Tsunayoshi himself often seemed, but was _clearly_ pulled in by the Sky. As much as he wasn't violent, Irie was a _strong_ Sun, having been chosen in the not-future as one of the (fake) Funeral Wreaths, much like a Vongola Guardian.

Spanner, the Lightning robot-guy, had packed up and moved from England to Japan as soon as he got flashes of that future, immediately settling into Namimori and starting to make ridiculous (but useful) things for the Decimo and his people. Not only that, he'd literally betrayed the Millifiore _mid-battle_ to pack an unconscious Decimo into a safe place, supplied him with tools to increase his fighting ability, and then _backed him up_ when he went to fight again. If that wasn't the result of a sudden and unexpected bond, she didn't know what was.

That meant he had two Suns and two Lightnings as well as two Mists.

Then she realized how much Skull had started hanging around, and that Reborn complained and swiped at him but had not actually chased him off and added an Inverted Cloud to the list. _Then_ she thought about Reborn.

No. No way. That was preposterous. Reborn had Flames too strong for even the one Sky aside from Luce he'd ever looked at fondly to bond with. There was no way a _fifteen-year-old_ had pulled it off.

Days later, she actually went to Japan and _asked_ , the question burning at her more the longer she thought about it.

Turned out that Reborn _did_ claim the boy as his Sky, though he informed her it was a recent development and to be kept from Iemitsu. He also blithely added that Dino and Enma—Skies could Harmonize with Earths?—were listed amongst his, as well as Shamal, Bianchi, and Lancia. And, for some reason, Byakuran and Yuni, and by extension Tsuna seemed to have a partial bond to _their_ Elements.

That was _seventeen,_ and one was an Earth Flame and three were _other Skies,_ two Classic and one a crazy Invert, to say nothing of _Reborn._

Skull was the one who said it. "Tsuna is the all-encompassing Sky," he informed. "He's like space, wrapping around everything. It doesn't matter whether it knows he's there, it only matters that he _is._ "

Maybe there was a place for her, too, even with her Rain still so damaged in the wake of the curse. Maybe she could _finally_ have a home.

(Then Colonnello showed up, quickly followed by a somewhat irate Iemitsu, and things just degenerated from there. Somehow it ended with her defecting to the Decimo, Colonnello joining forces with Reborn and _Skull_ to cause havoc for the intruding CEDEF, Verde showing up to turn experimental robots loose on everyone which Spanner countered with his own, _Fon_ dropping by to see his student and nephew before promptly kicking Iemitsu out of Tsuna's room through the window while a bull-riding Lambo chased Turmeric down the street before the _Varia_ showed and things got crazy.

Through it all, Sawada Tsunayoshi only buried his face in his hands with a longsuffering "Not _again,_ " before being swept into the chaos.

Well. If this was life with the Decimo, at least Lal would never be bored.)

xxxx


	8. Defenestrate

_Blame Seito for this. I saw the chapter title for the latest chapter on 'we are the poisoned youth' and this just kind of spawned. I haven't even read the chapter, yet. But it's not a word I see a lot, and it is a very fun word._

 ** _Defenestrate_** _  
(to throw out a window)_

Tsuna was somewhat inured to the casual ruckus his Guardians tended to make at any given point in time. They were rowdy and loved to fight, usually with each other. When physical tussles were for some reason unfeasible, they shouted.

So long as they didn't do anything truly damaging to each other and stood together whenever one of them was in trouble, he was willing to largely overlook the brawling and the lesser property damage.

It was when the bystanders got dragged in that it bugged him.

Still, they were coming up on his (second, and hopefully uninterrupted) Inheritance Ceremony fast, and general tension in the Vongola Mansion was running high. It didn't help that he and his Guardians were having to be in Italy for it, and Hibari still refused to speak in anything but Japanese in general conversation—well, what passed for 'general conversation' for Hibari, anyway—even if he knew both Italian and Mandarin.

Ryohei's Italian tended to be heavily broken by Japanese words and he also had the tendency to speak Italian with Japanese grammar rules, and Chrome just wasn't confident with the language overall. Mukuro, Lambo, and Gokudera were fine, of course, and Yamamoto was actually proficient, but adding half a language-barrier to the general high-stress current environment…

Well, it wasn't surprising when Hibari and Mukuro got into it in the upstairs lounge. He only expected it when Yamamoto got dragged in despite his attempts to diffuse the situation, quickly followed by Gokudera. Lambo bouncing his way into the middle and turning Gyudon the Lightning Bull loose wasn't at all shocking, even with the Lightning Flames.

It was a little surprising that Ryohei managed to stay out of it as long as he did.

Eventually, even _Chrome_ joined in the spreading brawl, and the Nono's Storm's attempt to intercede only got an illusion shot his way.

Tsuna covered his face with his hands for a moment, groaning to himself, and then stood, intending to intervene—just as Dino strolled in, calling a cheerful greeting as though there wasn't a massive fight going on in front of him.

Hibari had two major 'will attack at slightest provocation' people. Most he would thump with a tonfa once and move on, but these two—Mukuro and Dino—got his immediate and undivided attention.

Mukuro slightly moreso than Dino.

So when Dino moved into the fray, Tsuna was a little too late to keep Hibari from grabbing his older brother figure by the front of his shirt and throwing him in the general direction of the wall.

Dino did not hit the wall.

Dino hit the sixth-floor window.

Tsuna cursed, blasting Flame from his hands before he even realized he'd gone Hyper, shooting out through falling glass-shards and banking sharply downwards to snag Dino back out of the air. He took a moment to consider his options and dropped down to set Dino on the ground in the courtyard instead of taking him back through the shard-filled widow-frame. "Wait here a minute, please, Dino-nii."

Dino just kind of blinked at him, still a little stunned, so Tsuna took that as a 'okay' and shot back into the room he'd just left, where it genuinely seemed that no one but Coyote had even noticed what had happened, still caught up in the brawl.

Tsuna was a patient person. He was capable of putting up with some truly ludicrous things, thanks largely to Reborn. Tsuna was generally forgiving and genuinely kind and honest.

The fact that his own Guardians had not noticed that they had just caused one of his other friends to get thrown out a sixth-story _closed_ window (directly, in the case of Hibari, being the thrower) had his usually ironclad even temper _snap._

Of the nine other people in the room, only Coyote and Lambo were spared when his Flames lashed out, every single person in the increasingly-violent brawl suddenly sent sprawling as they found themselves coated to the hips in the not-ice of Zero-point. (Tsuna wasn't cruel, and would much rather not leave scarring by applying reversed Flames to unprotected skin. Even if it wasn't actually ice, it was _cold._ )

He was so angry he didn't even hear his own words as he lashed into their hides, only Lambo being given a lighter scolding for his cheering and Hibari getting double for being the one to throw. Oh, he knew the gist of what he was saying (irresponsible, careless, unprofessional, with a 'weak' tossed at Hibari for lack of situational awareness), but he had no later memory of the exact words.

Whatever he'd said, Coyote looked impressed and Gokudera looked on the verge of tears, Lambo sniffling in shame while even Mukuro and Hibari looked chastened.

Somewhat calmer once his Guardians were quiet, Tsuna settled for a dark scowl as he dismissed the Ice. "You," he informed flatly, " _will_ be cleaning up this room. Hibari, you owe Dino-nii an apology. The lot of you should know better. From now on, there will be designated locations for your… sparring. Inside anything but a reinforced training room will not be included in those locations."

He was going to be in charge of everyone, soon, not just his own crazy lot. He was _not_ dealing with getting everything fixed as often as would otherwise need to be done.

A subdued group of Guardians set about righting couches and tables, sweeping up glass-shards and otherwise cleaning the majority of the mess they'd made, setting aside things that were repairable and disposing of things that weren't.

Tsuna shook his head and walked out the door, heading down to the courtyard to retrieve Dino. He was horribly unsurprised when a small form fell in beside him. It was habit to reach down and pick Reborn up, his body no larger than a six-year-old though the Arcobaleno were all growing unnaturally quickly with the lifted curse.

Reborn tolerated it when Tsuna propped him on his hip, "Good job, Tsuna. A good Boss needs to be able to control his subordinates."

Tsuna could only sigh.

(On the up-side, that particular temper-snap ended up leaving an impression. His Guardians were much better behaved afterwards, especially indoors. It also seemed that Coyote had been spreading rumors, because he started getting speculative looks from Nono's Guardians… and then the Varia. But that was a different story entirely.)

 _xxxx_


	9. Unicorn

_Don't ask. Just... don't.  
_

 _Also, unicorns are long-known mythological creatures, found in everything from northern European to Indus Valley legends. The descriptions vary, but the most commonly accepted one from Greek and Roman mythos is that of a horse with a single horn, usually depicted as white in art. The most common beliefs held today (aside from it being a mythological magical equine that doesn't exist) is that it is a single-horned magical horse attracted to virgins and capable of healing. These basic beliefs are mentioned in Roman art and stories, though unicorns are also supposed to be symbolic of pure, chaste, and/or marital love as well as strength and inability to be conquered or tamed. (Check up on why the Scots love the unicorn so much as a symbol—I assure you it has nothing to do with being 'attracted to virgins'.)  
_

 ** _Unicorn  
_**

It all started with one of Reborn's ridiculous ideas of a training trip, specifically when he dropped Tsuna and his Reborn-student senpai Dino on the Japanese version of the Vongola's Death Mountain.

Exasperation at Dino's utter _uselessness_ without his men aside, Tsuna found himself oddly unconcerned. He'd never been out in nature like this—well, 'nature' being a relative term, as Reborn had littered the area with traps and non-native (and some supposedly non- _existent_ ) creatures. When the giant scorpions showed up, he was irritated and mildly disgusted, but not particularly worried.

They scuttled around, but gave Tsuna wide berth and when he glared and snapped "Hey!" as they headed for Dino, they decided to leave the Chiavarone Don alone, too.

That left Dino blinking at him in something like shock, but the even larger spiders that showed up right afterwards stopped any questions.

Those brought a sense of unease as well as disgust, and Tsuna kicked a half-meter arachnid away from him and wished the ones with the stinging tails* were back. There were too many of the spiders, and they were leaving trails of thin-but-strong silk of varying levels of stickiness that had him stumbling and Dino stuck to the ground the first time he fell.

Tsuna snarled, but didn't have much chance against the swarm and while he was sure that Reborn was somewhere nearby, he couldn't tell _where_. He felt several bite him, and stumbled to his knees.

Then there was a trumpeting bellow, a cross between an elk's bugle and a horse's neigh, and something large and white thundered into the clearing, crushing oversized spiders under flashing hooves and stabbing at them with a glowing, pearlescent horn.

His first thought was that unicorns were shaped more like deer than anything. His second was to wonder who the hell thought they were quiet, gentle creatures, because even he knew that horses were dangerous by size alone. Deer, goats, cattle—anything with horns or antlers—had head-weapons that were less for attack than defense. Generally sweeping out to the sides to cover more area and block attacks while sometimes inflicting damage in return was one thing. That single straight horn in the center of the creature's forehead was something else entirely.

There was no reason for such a horn but to _attack_.

Unicorns were very obviously, he thought as the pale shape of grace and fury speared a leaping spider straight through, _not_ passive creatures.

They might be vegetarian, but they were certainly not passive _._ Fierce, wild, and _unrelenting_ seemed more accurate.

Those few spiders that remained scattered, and the unicorn snorted sharply, snapping its head to the side to make the impaled arachnid fly off its horn. It was a beautiful creature, milky-light hide shimmering and delicate deer-form accented by eyes of a deep, deep shine. They whirled through shades of green-flecked brown like leaves and earth and wild things, and its horn was nearly a meter long, translucent silver and lit from within.

A flare of _something_ , and the horn was clean, the smear of spider-blood burned away, and the unicorn moved over to him, its hooves making no sound despite the thunder of warning they'd given moments before. It— _she_ —dropped her head to nuzzle Tsuna gently, lipping at a bite on his shoulder before stamping a bell-sound and backing up to lower her horn.

Tsuna did not move, dizzy and feeling weirdly unthreatened, and Dino cried out in alarm as the spiral horn touched Tsuna's chest, right over his heart.

He didn't feel any of Dino's worry even when she pushed forward sharply, her horn sliding into his chest without causing pain. He heard the crack of a gunshot (Leon, he was sure) and there was a flare of white and a sharp ping as the bullet was deflected away.

He gasped when a pulse of heat swept through him, and then something inside him was _splintering,_ breaking, shattering away. The flare of agony came sharp and unexpected, and he managed a single, ragged cry before another pulse of heat drove it away, then the unicorn stepped back, the horn-tip which had been the only thing holding him semi-upright tugging out of his heart.

He crumpled forward, barely conscious, and he heard a shout that sounded like Reborn mingling with Dino's.

The unicorn vanished in a flicker of white, and Tsuna gave in and passed out.

 _xxxx_

Reborn was a bit taken aback when a _unicorn_ tore into the clearing in a blur of flashing hooves and horn, crushing and kicking and spearing spiders left and right. When the still-living spiders fled, the supposedly mythological creature turned its attention on Tsuna.

He shifted his aim with sniper-rifle-Leon, sighting on the apparently _not_ -myth animal, but when it only nosed at his student curiously before stepping back, he let his guard down.

That was a mistake. Within the moment it took to re-aim, the beast had lowered its head and shoved its horn through Tsuna's chest (heart, Reborn _knew_ where the strike landed but couldn't help but pray otherwise), and Reborn's shot came too late. Didn't hit anyway, a glowing white flash deflecting the bullet—and it pulled back and bolted, leaving Tsuna to crumple face-first on the ground while Dino screamed his little brother's name even as Reborn involuntarily did the same.

Dino was struggling against spider-silk and Reborn made it to Tsuna's fallen form first. He could feel his students' Flames flickering, two Skies, which meant Tsuna was still alive.

He checked for a pulse and paused, surprised to find it strong and steady, then rolled Tsuna onto his back.

He was unconscious—not surprising—but despite the tear in his shirt and the new roundish silver mark above his heart, he was uninjured. Even the spider bites Reborn had seen him receive were gone. Reborn sat back, more relieved than he wanted to admit, and said, "Interesting."

Apparently that settled his worry-radiating other student enough to speak, as he finished tearing free of spider webbing. "Reborn?"

"He's fine," Reborn informed. "I think it _healed_ him." To what extent _,_ Reborn wasn't certain, but it was quite clear that Tsuna was uninjured.

A shaky breath, "Okay. Um. So… we were just helped by a—a—a…"

"Unicorn," Reborn supplied, as Dino seemed unable, a little stunned himself but unwilling to let it show. "It helped Tsuna, at least. It barely seemed to notice you."

He was starting to think that Tsuna had something in him that either boosted or flat-out _transcended_ Sky Flames' effect.

Then Tsuna's eyes opened, burning a bright, steady sunset.

Reborn inhaled sharply, suddenly aware of what the unicorn had done. Without the bullets, Tsuna shouldn't have been able to access his Flames with Nono's seal in place— _could_ not have, not even if desperate or truly dying. (And that seal likely had something to do with how useless Tsuna tended to be, sealing away so much of what he was. Maybe when it was gone—but, that was it, wasn't it? With his eyes burning bright with Sky, Tsuna's seal _was_ gone.)

Tsuna blinked once, twice, then sat up with a mild wince, "Well," he mused. "I haven't felt so _clear_ since I was five and that old man poked me in the forehead with a flaming finger."

And that settled it. Tsuna remembered being sealed, remembered being different _before_ he was sealed, and suddenly felt 'clear'. The seal was gone. Reborn was pretty sure that was entirely unprecedented, but it was also a relief. The cracks each bullet put in that seal would not have been enough to break it for at least another year, perhaps even longer—this was a jump-start, and suddenly he could _really_ start to train the Vongola Heir.

Tsuna glared at him, "You know something."

… and Tsuna's before-fledgling and mostly sealed Intuition was apparently on at full. Lovely. That was going to make springing things on his student so much _harder._

Those eyes sharpened.

Reborn found himself answering without having consciously decided to do so, "Iemitsu had the Nono seal your Flames on your fifth birthday because you'd Activated so young."

Tsuna frowned and Dino cursed, "Didn't they know what doing that to an Active Sky would _do?_ "

Reborn grimaced, "I hope not. Nono probably didn't, at least; he's sealed other flame-types with no serious ill effects."

"Other flame-types aren't _Skies,_ " Dino snapped, sounding appalled. "The Harmonization factor links in with _everything!_ Taking that away could completely destroy someone—Tsuna's lucky it didn't kill him!"

And Reborn knew that, which was part of why he pushed Tsuna so hard, no matter how strange that sounded. Pressure from within mixed with intermittent pressure from without would have increased the rate of degradation of the seal. He'd been hoping to get it to break sooner. That unicorn (and seriously? _Unicorn?_ ) had likely just righted nearly everything that had been wrong with Tsuna, at least physically. All the enforced limitations on body and brain would be shattered, and the fact that he wasn't screaming in agony or still unconscious meant it had also smoothed away the damage from forcing the seal off so rapidly. Sure, he'd still be behind his classmates in how much he knew, but with his brain able to retain the information more easily, it shouldn't end up being that hard to help him catch up. His attention span and balance would probably improve, too.

Tsuna stood, far more smoothly than usual as the gold in his eyes dimmed to flecks of amber in brown. "Hey, Reborn… thanks for trying."

Reborn grimaced, "Damn it, that's _already_ annoying."

Tsuna grinned back at him, "If you get to read my mind, I get to read yours."

Reborn huffed and hopped up to sit on his head, tolerating the steadying palm as Tsuna offered Dino a hand up. "Thanks, Dino," he added, and Reborn glanced at his first student to see what Tsuna was replying to, only slightly put out that the surprise had already washed away the evidence of what he'd been thinking moments before.

Dino grinned back as the surprise eased, "So. Unicorn, little bro?"

The implication wasn't lost and Tsuna swatted at him while Reborn laughed. It was relief, mostly, and a little hope.

Tsuna would be just fine.

(The unicorn took to showing up from time to time when Tsuna was at the shrine or in the woods. Reborn decided he didn't want to know.)

 _xxxx_

 _*Spiders are the most commonly known, but scorpions_ are _arachnids as well._


	10. Gokudera

_The first of what will probably be a wide range of introspective character sketches._

 ** _Gokudera_**

Gokudera Hayato had been treated as a lot of things since his childhood, and most of them weren't good. He was used to ridicule, to not having anyone care if he lived or died, to being _expendable._ He'd been eight when he'd fled a family that maybe had cared for him and maybe hadn't, but either way had treated him poorly enough that the streets looked like a better option.

In some ways, they had been.

Shamal… Shamal was a different set of issues on his own. He'd _seemed_ to care, at first, then not, then care again, and eventually just thrown up his hands and kicked Hayato out. (Shamal didn't understand that it wasn't that he _wanted_ to die, he was just so used to being _expected_ to. He couldn't seem to value his life over his skills anywhere else, because those he'd had to work for would have killed him themselves if he seemed to be slacking for even a moment. It was so ingrained that Shamal's anger over him doing the same under the doctor's tutelage just didn't make sense.)

He probably should have figured it out earlier, that as a doctor—hitman or no—Shamal wanted those under his care to take care of themselves, but Shamal had lost patience and, like everyone before him, proven not to care enough to stand by Hayato.

When Reborn gave him the assignment of 'test the Vongola Decimo and you will have a place here', he honestly had been expecting it to be as temporary as everything before, but temporary shelter was better than none and he'd agreed without hesitation.

Then he'd met Sawada Tsunayoshi.

 _Small, weak, coward,_ had been his first thoughts. Then, during the actual test, 'pacifist' had come to mind.

When he'd messed up, overeager and angry that this little weak thing was being considered for a position where he would always be valued somehow (Hayato had never felt valued, not for his skills or his position or his family or his _self_ ), he'd thought that was it, he was going to die and no one would even care to remember him.

Then that little, weak, under-the-influence (because the Dying Will Bullet removed inhibitions more quickly and thoroughly than alcohol or drugs ever managed) _civilian_ child had flung himself heedlessly into danger to _save Hayato._

Had been relieved when the dynamite wicks were snuffed and he could look up and see Hayato standing before him, wide-eyed but unharmed.

Had _valued_ him, a stranger that had just tried to kill him.

(Gokudera-kun, the Juudaime Vongola called him. He knew it was Japanese protocol, that Juudaime might never call him anything else without permission, polite as he was. The boy said he didn't want a subordinate but a friend, but he'd never had a friend and didn't know how to be one. He knew how to be a subordinate, though, and Juudaime valued him even when he messed up.)

He protested and got uncomfortable when Gokudera (because he'd rather be Juudaime's Gokudera than the rest of the mafia's Hayato even if he shared that name with his father) was formal or submissive, got frantic and placating when Gokudera got angry, got frustrated and upset when Gokudera put serving over his own safety—but he never turned him away. Never denied him or told him to leave. Even when the (fake) transfer to Italy came in, he'd been happy because he'd thought it would be better for _Gokudera._

(And, yes, he'd said to Reborn that Gokudera was scary and caused trouble for him, and he'd never _hidden_ that reaction from Gokudera, but he'd never told him to leave. Not _once._ )

Sawada Tsunayoshi, Vongola Decimo (Juudaime), had _earned_ the reverence Gokudera paid him and more. The world could burn around them, and so long as Tsuna was safe and happy, Gokudera would be content to watch it fall.

(Because Juudaime was the Sky, welcoming and accepting all… even a Storm so violent and useless as he.)

 _xxxx_


	11. Exactly What it Looked Like

_Linked to 6, 'Not What it Looked Like'._

 ** _Exactly What it Looked Like_**  
 _(unless you're Iemitsu)_

It was a simple fact that Reborn's training was effective. No one denied this. Say what you might about his methods, but they did leave a _lasting_ impression.

On the up-side, this meant Tsuna didn't even try to shirk his paperwork. It was a sad day in reality when _paperwork,_ which was generally tedious and boring, was considered a _break,_ but that's how Tsuna saw it.

On the down-side, it meant his work ethic had morphed over the past few years into something that might have flipped from the 'lazy' end of the spectrum all the way up to 'overworks to collapse without proper supervision'.

Ordinarily, Tsuna's bizarre view of paperwork—although he admittedly didn't have as much as the Nono had, because Reborn had made sure Tsuna knew how and more importantly, _when_ to delegate—made things easy. When he was sick, not so much.

He'd woken up without a fever and immediately decided to head to his office and start on the work he'd missed the day before. Of course, he'd been _unconscious_ most of the day before, and not actually coherent when Shamal had ordered his Guardians to keep him from doing anything strenuous—'and that includes paperwork, you idiots'—for another three.

Reborn took it upon himself to see to it that the more rowdy factions in the manor were not going to get into trouble, trusting Ryohei and Gokudera to keep Tsuna from working while he was gone.

He got back to Gokudera freaking at Tsuna for not being in his room, Ryohei exclaiming about how 'not-extreme' it was to break the doctor's orders before breakfast, and Chrome wondering aloud why no one had told _Tsuna_ he wasn't supposed to move around because he'd cause himself to relapse, all of which seemed to slip past his student's ability to focus on.

(Personally, Reborn thought no one had told him because he'd been _sleeping,_ which he should _still be doing,_ because Shamal giving bed-rest orders was exceedingly rare.)

And, of _course_ , that was when the idiota showed up. It was no secret that Reborn didn't like Iemitsu. The only reason he hadn't already shot the man was because Tsuna had asked him not to, and he _was_ Tsuna's blood, even if that didn't seem to mean what it should to Iemitsu.

Naturally, the idiota added to the mayhem in the wrong direction, being completely ignorant of both Shamal's instructions and somehow the air of the situation as a whole.

"Tuna-fishy!"

Tsuna, lacking his usual self-control and inhibitions towards violence due to obviously having reignited his _dangerously high fever_ and thus being more loopy than someone completely _smashed_ , immediately snarled at his sire, Sky Flames bursting to life in his hands.

Huh. And the only phrase had been 'Tuna-fishy'. Reborn had known he didn't like it, but that was some _violent_ dislike. Still, igniting his Flames and moving to get in a fight with Iemitsu, who, for all his incompetence as a parent and husband, was a strong fighter—that was _not_ bed-rest.

Reborn strode into the room, shooting at the current head of the CEDEF (he knew Tsuna was looking for a suitable replacement, and was pretty sure Lal Mirch was creeping up the list of candidates) before glowering at his no-longer-official student and snagging him by the forearm to make him hold still. "Flames _off,_ Tsuna."

The instant the flames died, Tsuna wobbled.

Reborn caught him with a huffy growl, scooping him up into a bridal hold as it was quite clear he wasn't conscious enough to be heading anywhere on his own feet. "Dame-Tsuna, you're not supposed to be straining yourself. Back to bed."

Behind him, Iemitsu lunged with a indignant "Let go of my Tuna-fishy, pervert!" and he heard a heavy 'thunk' as Tsuna's available Guardians flattened the man.

"Juudaime's _sick,_ you moron! Reborn's just putting him back in bed!"

"It is not extreme to attack Reborn when he's trying to help when Tsuna extremely has a fever! You should extremely not interfere!"

"Ano, you should let Reborn take care of Boss, or he'll never stay put. He only listens to Reborn when he's that sick."

(At least Tsuna's Guardians weren't _complete_ idiots.)

 _xxxx_

 _*I had a wacky flu-strain like that once. I'd been out of school for a couple days, fluxuating between 103° and normal, and woke up feeling relatively fine one morning. Got up, got ready, walked out to meet the bus, and my sisters were asking me if I was_ sure _I should be going to school by the time we actually got to the end of the driveway. I felt all right, so I insisted… and my morning teachers converged on me and herded me to the office at lunch, called my parents, and sent me home. Turned out I'd gotten all the way up to 104°, and I still felt relatively okay. Didn't look it, though, apparently, and wasn't_ , _but I_ felt _okay. Mind, I was apparently staggering like a drunk, and they didn't let me back in school without a doctor's clearance. __


	12. Catastrophe

_Because. Um. Yes. That's all there is to it._ Because.

 _(Side note to 'le meh' up to 105°F is considered survivable, although higher_ _temperatures_ can _be survived if the fever is brought back down quickly enough._ _106-107° is usually deadly rather quickly, and even when not there is often permanent damage. Haven't heard of anyone living through_ _ _108°_.)_

 ** _Catastrophe_**

Everyone knew that Giannini was not allowed near the weapons. The mechanic was capable, creative, and able to make some very interesting things—but he was _not_ a weaponsmith by any stretch of the imagination.

As a matter of fact, any weapon he got his hands on invariably became something relatively harmless, if occasionally flashy. This could be (and had been) a problem, mainly because the Vongola was a very well-known Famiglia (rightfully so, being the most powerful even by Fuuta's Rankings) and the young Decimo was not infrequently targeted by assassins.

Of course, they hadn't realized just how literal the 'got his hands on' expression was.

Not until a group of Flame-wielding assassins smashed through the wall of Tsuna's mother's house while Giannini was staying over, one of them smacking the mechanic out of the way with the butt of some kind of Storm-powered missile launcher before turning the weapon on the room at large and firing, either not noticing or not caring that Giannini's hands had closed on the stock in an attempt to drag it aside. (The man was timid, but he was _loyal.)_

A flicker of something that wasn't _quite_ flame blitzed over the weapon just before it flared with red light and Tsuna was between the small missile and Fuuta, calling up his own Flames in a flare of orange before everything dissolved into chaos.

Impact, red Flame, and suddenly all of the would-be assassins were unconscious and Bianchi dropped her remaining poison onigiri carelessly, pulling out duct-tape to truss up the attackers while Reborn spun to assess the damage, Leon relocating to his fedora.

I-pin and Mama were out doing some early shopping, Lambo sleeping off a cold upstairs, Fuuta wide-eyed and trembling, Gianni shakily scrambling to his feet and Tsuna…

There were burn marks, a few scraps of scorched fabric from the shirt and jeans Tsuna had been wearing, and a horribly familiar Vongola X Gear smoking faintly in a crater blasted out of the floor.

Reborn's heart stuttered in his chest, the pieces clicking into a sickening picture.

Then one of the larger scraps of smoking fabric shifted.

Cautiously, Reborn stepped forward—then rocked back as a familiar shade of brown fluff popped up, shaking free of singed cotton. Big, orange-flecked brown eyes stared up at him for a long moment before triangular ears flattened back into brown fur and a tiny head tilted down to examine a even tinier, delicate paw.

The shrill, slightly oddly-toned "Hiieeee!" really just cinched the whole thing.

"Dame-Tsuna," Reborn stated, unwilling to show the relief he felt. "You just officially became more useless than ever before."

 _xxxx_


	13. Accidental

_They don't do it on purpose. Of course they don't—they_ love _their Sky, even those two who deny it fervently._

 _They don't do it on purpose… but they hurt him anyway._

 ** _Accidental_**

It started out as Yamamoto's idea. Normally, this would have been reason enough for Gokudera to dismiss said idea out of hand, but it actually seemed like a _good_ idea. Juudaime tended to forget his birthday after having been officially instated—Vongola Decimo was busy, after all, and he had always put those he cared about before himself.

He never forgot anyone _else's_ birthday. Somehow, though, ever since the second year Gokudera had known him, Juudaime managed to forget his own birthday, even though Reborn's was the day before and Juudaime _never_ forgot Reborn's.

As a matter of fact, Juudaime usually had a fair hand in planning for the now adult-sized hitman's party, and generally seemed startled when he had one presented to him the next day, even though it was never supposed to be a surprise party and they had quite a few people show up—though never anyone Juudaime didn't know personally. Juudaime's birthday was never treated as a mafia event, it was only friends and family.

This time, Yamamoto had the startlingly bright idea of arranging a surprise get-away, so that Juudaime could have a break from the insanity that was his daily existence, but in order to do it without Juudaime finding out, they had to get _sneaky._

All the Guardians got brought into the planning—they had to arrange for someone to take over the normal Vongola duties while the Decimo was gone as well as get all of their own covered, and those of Reborn (who honestly was still treated more like a freelancer than Juudaime's closest advisor when it came to listed duties _,_ as no one wanted to try and make _Reborn_ do paperwork). Not only that, but they had to get Lambo and I-pin excused from school and the Varia ready to move in for home base defense while they were gone, _and_ change the times for Reborn's party that Juudaime was actively involved in the planning of— _all without Juudaime hearing about it._

Without his Hyper Intuition, it would have been extremely difficult to keep such things from him. With it, it was about five millimeters away from _impossible._

They, Vongola Decimo's Guardians _,_ started dodging their Sky.

Reborn helped, for a given value of—he provided distractions for the Guardians and kept Juudaime so busy that he didn't have time to double-check the arrangements he was making for Reborn or spend too much time dwelling on why his volatile Guardians hadn't caused much destruction of late.

However, the dual facts that they weren't with him and that Reborn was being very nearly as much of a chaos-inducer as he'd been when they'd all been in middle school and Juudaime was still spending more time fighting for his life than doing deskwork meant that they didn't notice when their Sky started to waver. They were so focused on doing something nice for him that they forgot to support him.

(It all went wrong so _quickly._ )

 _xxxx_

When Reborn started pushing him to train every day, Tsuna wondered why and focused on his Hyper Intuition, but could find no great threats. Reborn was restless, though, obviously so, and had retaken to shooting at him in the mornings before his alarm went off and driving him to near-exhaustion with training.

It mostly worked to keep him occupied, but he still noticed how his Guardians had begun avoiding him—even Gokudera looked for ways to back out of conversation and disappear off into one office or another, nervous in a way that made Tsuna start to worry.

Noticing that worry, Reborn pushed him harder.

Something was going on with his family, his _Guardians,_ and Reborn knew what it was and wasn't telling him. Was, in fact, obviously trying to keep it from his notice.

I-pin ducked her head and muttered noncommittal words when he asked her if she knew what was going on—she may have decided to stop being an assassin, but she still lived with them and was safer for it. She was family, and if she didn't want to be a killer, he could only be glad of it… but she, too, knew what was happening and wouldn't speak.

When outright confronted, his Guardians balked, and so did his other friends. Even _Dino_ only scratched his cheek and said he didn't want to get involved before promptly tripping over the entry rug and spraining both his wrist and ankle.

Tsuna could have brought it up with the less influential members of his Famiglia—maids or paper-runners or other staff of the mansion, but they all looked so uncomfortable when they caught him trying to get one of the Guardians to talk that he didn't want to force them, and with any of them it _would_ be 'force'. He wasn't cruel.

Reborn had never been good with emotions, Tsuna knew that, and so he accepted Reborn's attempts at distracting him as the comfort they were probably meant to be, but he _worried._

(He also hadn't synched with any of his Guardians in over a week, and it was starting to wear at him. In fact, the only person he'd been able to assure himself by was Reborn, the others spending too much time away from him for his Flames to properly enfold theirs.)

He started having trouble sleeping, and the stress and fatigue rapidly built to give him headaches.

(One spiked to a migraine and Reborn forced him into bed and called Shamal, the doctor berating Reborn for pushing him too hard and promptly dosing him with painkillers and bringing Basil in to Rain-Flame him to sleep. It wasn't Yamamoto, and Tsuna _ached._ )

He had a meeting coming up with a… it wasn't a _hostile_ Famiglia, precisely, but it was one that felt wrong. Felt like a threat. (He wanted to ask Gokudera and Mukuro to join him, but he hadn't been able to speak to either in days.)

He brought Reborn with him when he went, and Reborn had been _almost_ enough. At first, he thought Reborn _had_ been enough, and his mentor would have been if not for how tired and drawn he himself was. Tired, a hair slower than usual, and Flames wavering from an aching strain, Tsuna felt one of their enemies hit him in the side, batting the attacker back without thinking much of it since it didn't really hurt.

(Seconds later, Reborn gunned down the last several standing with a Chaos Shot and called a cleanup crew with Leon-gun turned Leon-phone before glancing towards his student and going abruptly terrified. Tsuna should have thought something of it.)

 _xxxx_

"Reborn?" Gokudera straightened, alert. Reborn had said he'd call them if they were leaving early, but 'early' had already passed and a call _now_ was worrisome.

The jagged sound on the other end of the line more so. _"Medical, now!"_ the hitman snapped, _"Tsuna's—shit_ , _don't you_ dare! _Look at me, Tsuna. Tsuna!"_

Gokudera's heart just about _stopped_ , a sickening fear coiling in his veins. "Reborn! What's wrong? What do we equip for?"

 _"_ _He's bleeding out—I'm doing what I can, but—_ Tsuna! **_Fuck!_** _"_

Reborn didn't curse. Ever. That he was _now…_

 _"_ _Storm-laced stab wound, chest, lower left side. I'm not a healer!"_

Gokudera had already hit the emergency call for their medical to mobilize, and now at least he knew what to tell them. That last sentence, though, told him more than anything that it was bad. Reborn wasn't a healer, but he _was_ a Sun and had more Flames than any other person alive except maybe Tsuna himself. Even with his meager skill, he could manage to heal some pretty devastating wounds by virtue of excessive Flame usage alone.

"We're on our way," he promised, praying to anything that might listen that his Juudaime would be all right.

 _"_ _Send a Cloud! He's lost too much blood already—he won't last long enough for a transfusion."_

Hibari was in the mansion, had just gotten back. Gokudera hit 'call all' on his Guardian-phone and barked out a report even as he ran down to meet the medical team, Ryohei heading it and Hibari leaping down from the second floor to join them without even having gone to change his clothes.

(Juudaime would live. He _had_ to.)

 _xxxx_

Reborn was half-frantic, Leon back in his base form and clinging to his shoulder, chirping anxiously in a reflection of that desperation. He had, over the years, had many people he would kill for—Reborn was a hitman. He'd often contracted with Vongola, yes, but he'd been freelance nonetheless, and give him a paycheck and a target that his outlines on 'acceptable/unacceptable targets' didn't exclude, and he'd kill for a lot of people. He also had a few he would willingly die for—not many, but he had them, and both his students were on that list.

Tsuna was the first person in whom he'd found something to _live_ for.

So he knelt there, pouring out his Sun Flames like water in a frantic bid to keep his student alive, because his Flames did nothing to dim the Storm eating away at Tsuna's side and it was all he could do to keep the healing up high enough to stop the wound from getting worse. (It was already bad, and had only been there bare seconds by the time Reborn's hands had pressed golden light into it.)

What he _couldn't_ do was replace the blood that all the pressure he could put on that wound was barely slowing. He didn't have the knowledge to stimulate bone marrow, and he didn't have the Rain to snuff the Storm. Not that stimulating bone marrow would likely _help_ at this point—Tsuna was too far gone for that.

When Tsuna's breaths started to come shallow and infrequent, Reborn cursed the mafia, cursed the ones responsible, cursed _himself_ for never bothering to learn true healing. (After this, he would. He _would._ )

By the time he heard the sirens of the Vongola ambulance, his vision was blurring with tears that he couldn't spare the focus to quell, his own chest heaving and his body burning with the inner edges of Flame Exhaustion, just before burning Life. He hadn't gotten Flame Exhaustion in over thirty years—the last time was when the Arcobaleno had been originally cursed with the damn Pacifiers. Even when the others flagged, he had never had to spend so much Flame that he felt like _this._

(But Tsuna was still alive. Barely.)

 _xxxx_

Hibari was the first one to make it through scattered bodies (some dead, some unconscious) to where Reborn was kneeling next to Juudaime, hands pressed down at an awkward angle and black suit-jacket soaked up to the elbows in what could only be blood, Ryohei close on his heels.

The hitman relinquished his position to the boxer even as Hibari pressed purple-wreathed fingers down on Juudaime's chest, and the bleeding which had been minimal beneath Reborn's gold-glowing hands suddenly became an outpouring of life under Ryohei's. Gokudera crashed to his own knees beside them, hearing the medical personnel scrambling to catch up, a quick glance showing that Reborn— _Reborn_ —looked like he could barely stay conscious even though he had no visible injuries and there were tear-tracks on his face.

This was…

"Rain," Reborn managed, thready. "Someone needs to—douse the Storm—" he coughed once, dry and rough. A clear sign of Flame Exhaustion and all of it added up to _too close._

But Gokudera could do Rain.

He reached forward, pressing his hands above the wound but not at its opening, letting Ryohei's gold keep covering that as he fed his weak Rain Flames through Juudaime's skin, keeping it as localized as he could. (The knife Reborn had mentioned had gone in through the side, between the floating ribs and too small to hit heart or lungs even with an upward angle, because Tsuna wasn't already dead or coughing up blood. Maybe organ damage, and probably diaphragm, and definitely hit an artery or three unless that was the Storm Flames' doing.)

There was the Storm, snapping back at his Rain, but it was hurting Juudaime and that was _not acceptable._ He growled and shoved Rain down into it, smothering out the foreign Storm, and Ryohei made a sound of triumph as suddenly the wound began to close, the river of red thinning to a trickle before dying out entirely.

Juudaime was still so _pale,_ though, and Hibari kept pumping more Cloud into him until that started to fade.

Ryohei sat back and gave the medics an 'okay to move' just as Juudaime shifted, a low groan leaking from his throat as his eyelids fluttered.

Gokudera stilled, "Juudaime?"

"Tsuna?" Reborn rasped.

Brown eyes managed to partially open, but Juudaime didn't say anything, his gaze wandering to Reborn before flickering in clear worry. His lips moved without sound.

"I'm fine _,_ Tsuna," Reborn brushed off the concern even though he obviously needed at _least_ a few days of rest, himself. "You're the idiot who got hit."

His eyes trailed back to Gokudera, and there was something… something that didn't sit quite right, something like relief or maybe hope and sorrow all at once, but Gokudera didn't have the chance to ask before those eyes slipped closed again.

"He'll need a transfusion," Ryohei twisted his head into his own shoulder, using his suit-jacket to catch stray drops of sweat, his calm wording only emphasizing the seriousness of the situation. "Hibari will need to maintain his Flames until we've had him hooked up for a while."

Gokudera winced at the thought. Cloud-replicated blood would work as long as the Flames held, but once the Flames dispersed, the Cloud-constructs would disperse with them. There was a good chance that all the blood in Juudaime's body was made of Cloud Flame at the moment, and the idea of what would happen if they didn't fix that was…

"Let's go," he managed, reaching down to offer Reborn a hand.

It was a testament to his weariness that the hitman didn't spurn it, actually letting Gokudera support him as the clean-up crew started arriving on the scene. (Clean up was efficient with mafia, and Vongola's better than most, but Juudaime had made sure that their medical was the fastest-moving group they had. Gokudera had never been more grateful for that foresight.)

 _xxxx_

Ordinarily, Ryohei headed any team that was working on Tsuna when he was injured, but with only blood-loss left and transfusion far safer than stimulating bone marrow to overproduction, he stayed with Gokudera, Hibari, and an exhausted Reborn in the medical wing's waiting room, pacing with restless energy.

Hibari planted himself next to the fichus tree, leaning against the corner and glaring at nothing as Gokudera sank into a chair next to the hitman, who would usually lean against a wall much like the Cloud but who was still shaking and pale from heavy overuse of his Flames, having refused to rest until news came back on Tsuna.

Then the others started trickling in, making their way back to the mansion from where they'd been either working or trying to make sneaky arrangements. When the room had all seven of Tsuna's Guardians as well as his tutor, no one started fighting.

When Jervan, the usual head of their medical team whenever Shamal wasn't there (and he often wasn't, liking his freedom nearly as much as a Cloud) came out to where the eight were arrayed in eerie silence, every eye turned to him.

The way he carried himself didn't speak of good news, and Reborn was the one to straighten through his weariness and demand a report.

"Decimo… the transfusion was successful," Jervan informed, "… but the strain on his body was considerable. His heart stopped three times while we were working, and… he has slipped into a coma."

" _What?_ " Gokudera rasped, wide-eyed alongside most of the others, Reborn hissing quietly beside him.

"It's only a light coma," Jervan rushed to assure them, "but we don't know why, and from what our equipment tells us, his Flames are both low and... I don't know how to put it. Restless, perhaps—certainly behaving oddly. One might say _flickering._ "

Reborn closed his eyes for a moment, "May we see him?"

Jervan inclined his head, "Of course. It may even help him to have his Guardians near—I don't know much of Sky bonding, but I do know it has a stabilizing effect on the parties' involved Flames."

 _xxxx_

"This is our fault," Hayato admitted, bleak and shaky. It _was—_ it had to be—Juudaime's Flames had flinched back from his the instant he'd drawn near, and he could sense them doing the same with the others… except Reborn, who could barely stand but had led the way to Juudaime's room anyway before the doctor had directed him to an adjacent bed, where he'd almost immediately dropped into something closer to unconsciousness than sleep.

No, the Sky curled around Reborn's heavily drained Sun with a tired sort of welcome before stretching back out again, brushing against the rest of theirs cautiously, as though expecting to be rebuffed. Considering Juudaime was in a _coma,_ it couldn't be a conscious action.

What had they _done,_ that their own Sky was so hesitant to touch their Flames?

 _xxxx_


	14. Temper

_Two things: First, if I were to turn any of these little bits into an actual story, I would separate it out and start posting it as such. I'm debating between the 'Unicorn' one (it has spawned successors in my brain) and the 'Accidental' one. The second has significantly more ambiguity about what I'd do with it, FYI. Not actually much in the way of planning, there. If anyone has preferences/suggestions, do let me know. Also, I will take—though not always fill_ _—prompts.  
_

 _Second, Varia = bad language. Sorry!  
_

 ** _Temper_**

Tsuna didn't know who'd suggested it, much less actually convinced the Ninth this was a good idea, but he was fifteen and suddenly being shipped to Varia headquarters for training with the recruits, ostensibly to 'get used to violence and chaos'. (He didn't know what Nono thought _Reborn_ was, and he definitely didn't know how Nono could have missed all the earth-rending battles he'd been in or somehow ignored Reborn's report on the Future that Would Never Be, in which Tsuna had literally _disintegrated_ a man in anger. While it was true that Byakuran had needed to be killed to break the power of the Mare Rings, it was also true that Tsuna had been angry enough to _want_ to kill him when he did.)

Granted, the Varia recruits were of a much higher level than the standard recruits. They were also chaotic and more prone to violence than most. Perhaps it was more a test of how well he'd do when lacking the presence of his guardians—he was only supposed to be there two months, after all, though the recruits didn't know it. Or know who he was, for that matter—even within Vongola, only the upper echelons and the main house's servants knew his full name. (Everyone knew he was the son of CEDEF's leader, which meant they'd recognize his family name in an instant.)

He had no intention of putting up with this farce. They wanted him to _take over all of Vongola._ There was _no way_ he was putting up with hazing from people he was going to have to lead _._ Reborn would kill him, if not simply appear from nowhere and start shooting.

Growling, he slipped into his assigned room and tossed his things on the nearest top bunk, ignoring the startled, then darkly assessing looks from his three roommates. As a latecomer, he was going to be subject to ridicule and bullying attempts on principle, and the fact that he was so small was going to increase the severity.

He was in no mood to deal with it. (He wondered if Timoteo had done this on purpose, knowing exactly how it felt for a Sky to be without _any_ of its Elements. He also wondered if he knew what he'd be getting into with all of Tsuna's headstrong, crazy Guardians and insane non-Guardian Elements being left with only some minor supervision, because whether Reborn admitted it out loud or not, he _was_ one of Tsuna's Elements. So were Shoichi and Spanner, and Enma… well, they'd certainly Harmonized and shared Flames. Which meant Enma would be off-balance, too, which would put his set of Earths off, and all this was a disaster waiting to happen. On Nono's head be it.)

Xanxus had no doubt heard Tsuna had arrived by that point, because Lussuria had met him at the door before sweeping off to tell the others he'd arrived.

(The Varia, as in Xanxus and his immediate Elements, seemed to hold some kind of respect for him, more since they'd received memories from that future. With Xanxus, Tsuna saw this as quickly becoming a problem.)

Tsuna sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and strode purposefully out into the hallway at a distant but nearing set of annoyingly familiar voices. (He was _so glad_ the seal on his Flames was completely gone and he could use them freely, without the pills or bullets.)

Other heads peeked out of doors as Squalo voiced loud protests and Lussuria flapped helplessly while Xanxus himself strode down the hall ahead of them, not even hesitating before pulling both X-guns and charging for a combined shot.

Tsuna jumped straight to Zero Point Revised and absorbed the blast, knowing if he didn't the majority of the dorms would be taken out with everyone in them. (So much for 'low profile'.)

"Xanxus," he greeted, flames burning high. "If you want a match, we should really take it outside."

Xanxus scowled at him for a long moment, then abruptly holstered both his guns. "Tch. Squalo! Get him used to facing swordsmen! He can handle Flames fine and the Arcobaleno have him catching bullets, but there's no way that trash Rain of his will turn a blade on him."

Tsuna was very much not in the mood, and more than capable of turning the entire group into ice cubes, so when Squalo grinned and moved to slash with his sword, Tsuna shot forward and froze him, and then gave Xanxus his sweetest smile. (Lussuria surreptitiously made himself scarce.)

"I am _extremely_ annoyed right now," Tsuna informed blandly. "I've been forced to come to Italy with less than a day's warning while leaving no fewer than twelve of my Elements behind in a town that may very well not be standing when I return. I have been off the plane for less than an hour. If _anyone_ bothers me in the next ten, I am freezing this whole damn mansion and telling Nono exactly where he can stuff it, all right, Xanxus-san?"

Xanxus stared at him in something that might have been abject shock before barking a laugh, "The old man messed up, sending you here. Fine, trash, let my Rain out and we'll see about getting you home. Take a break while you can—you've been leaving your crazies unattended for most of a day already."

Tsuna smiled again, "Thank you, Xanxus-san," he reached out to melt the not-ice on Squalo, who promptly tottered and started shaking. "Please remind Grandfather that he's had me training with Reborn and my daily life is filled with more violent chaos than your lot generates on a bad day."

Xanxus laughed again, waving him back towards his dorm even as he turned towards his own office, "Shit, you're _not_ trash. I think I'm starting to fucking _like_ you. Get some sleep. I'll deal with the old man."

Squalo spent several long seconds staring before he flailed, coming close to getting his sword stuck in a wall. "VOI! What the hell, Baby Boss!? Boss even calls _me_ trash!"

Tsuna gave Squalo the same sweet smile that he'd given Xanxus while Squalo had been frozen, and the swordsman stilled before giving a full-body shudder. "Voi, don't do that, Baby Boss. That's fucking _creepy_. Shit."

"Squalo-san, I am going to go sleep. If you want to know anything else about the two minutes during which you were indisposed, take it up with Xanxus-san. When I wake up, there will be travel plans directing me back to Namimori, all right?"

Squalo went a little wide-eyed. "… Right, Baby Boss. I'll… go get on that."

Tsuna waved dismissively and walked into his room, absently vaulting onto the bunk he'd claimed before dropping out of Hyper Dying Will and yanking the thin blanket over himself.

This time, his roommates gazes were stuck between shock and terror, and they stayed quiet as they got up to sneak (badly) out of the door. Tsuna didn't particularly care whether they were there or not, so long as they didn't directly interrupt his nap.

He loved his Guardians enough to generally put up with their destructive habits. The Varia—well, overall, he put up with them, too. But he was _not_ in the mood. He didn't have any of his Elements, he was off-kilter and tired and _irritable,_ and he was simply _not dealing with this._

(Fifteen hours later, he was on a plane back to Namimori, Vongola Nono having been informed by Xanxus that the whole thing had been a bad idea and that he didn't want Baby Boss around without at least some of his Elements. _Ever_. The fact that he didn't refer to Tsuna as 'trash' or any other negative-sounding word and had instead resorted to Squalo's nickname for the Decimo while not cursing throughout the short discussion was more than enough to have Timoteo agreeing to send Tsuna home.

Xanxus said he should have seen it coming. Considering how Timoteo tended to get a bit snappy whenever one of his Guardians was too far away, he really probably should have. Tsuna had bonded very deeply with his Elements—and it had been a surprise that it was more than just his Guardians, though perhaps it shouldn't have been—and sending him off without _any_ of them had been bound to end badly.

Nono decided to be satisfied with the fact that Tsuna's pique had apparently earned Xanxus' respect and deem it a beneficial loss. Specifically, while pretending that had been his intent all along.)

 _xxxx_


	15. An Intro or Two (HP crossover)

So, it seemed to me that if Harry Potter and Sawada Tsunayoshi were the same soul with the whole 'reincarnated' thing going on, one of the stories would go very differently, provided said soul remembered its previous existence. The question is, which one?

These promptly spawned, and the pun is completely intended. Someone please love one!

 _x_

 _Experiences shape a person. When Sawada Tsunayoshi, the strongest human Sky (as strong as Sephira, maybe even_ stronger _) dies in one world (Kawahira's favorite world, his favorite Tsunayoshi, the one who'd started out sealed and nearly shattered and had risen to_ break the Arcobaleno curse _, and since the Arcobaleno weren't in_ all _worlds at a given time, he'd broken it forever, for everyone, made that world the pillar of all others) he is born in another._

 _(Kawahira has never liked prophesy—some of his people had Seen all too clearly, but not_ prophesy. _Paths on paths on paths, but not_ set _until_ past. _)_

 _Born to a couple hiding from a terrorist, with a prophesy hanging over his head. But it's like all prophesies, wrapped up in riddles, pointing at something that_ could _be, a situation that would likely somehow match almost guaranteed, but the humans there didn't understand that. Thought it_ certain, _thought it_ set.

 _That soul was so bright, though, and no_ child _should be forced into such a path, and Kawahira could not control when or where or how one was reborn, but he_ could _nudge things, just a little._

 _It would take a few months to begin, but dear, dear Tsuna would_ remember.

 _xxxx_

 _Memories shape a person, or shape_ much _of one, and the deepest core remains but the memories, the_ experiences _, are a series of lenses that change our views of the world, how we react and what we see._

 _Harry Potter is kidnapped and dropped through the Veil by a radical faction that formed well after the 'War' was over, after everything else used in attempts to end him were unsuccessful._

 _(Harry Potter hadn't asked for it, hadn't wanted it, hadn't deliberately sought it, but he was the Master of Death whether he liked it or not. 'Master' indeed—more like the one cursed by, because humans were not meant to live forever and he_ did not want it.

 _The Veil was used as an execution device, and the place it led to was an 'in-between', one that humans could not survive. It was the free not-existence between worlds, and even Harry's body couldn't exist there._

 _Souls passed through easily, but memories were stripped from them, eaten by the Nothingness that_ people _weren't meant to travel in, but Harry was the_ Master of Death. _This not-space, this_ between, _it was a piece of the edge of the Afterlife, the place that souls slid through on their ways to being born again. The cleansing place, the place that let them start over with nothing of old lives left clinging to them._

 _As Harry was, his memories had been embedded into the core of his soul, held safe and sheltered even from the Cleansing. He was born to a woman who was just a little bit broken and a man who seemed more like_ threat _than_ father. _(The man stayed bare days before disappearing, and Harry was grateful for it.)_


	16. Hibari

_Hibari is the Cloud, and the Cloud will allow no outside binds to be placed upon it. It drifts upon the wind, unable to be shackled. But still the Sky is always there, the only home it ever needs to know. Introspective.  
_

 ** _Hibari_**

Hibari Kyoya is many things, and none of them are 'sweet' or 'gentle'. He is violent, protective, _vicious._ Called the strongest of the Decimo Guardians. (Perhaps he is, in battle. He claims to be—but no matter his responses to others, his tendency to lash out with steel-reinforced blows at even small annoyances, he is honest with himself. They are all strong, in their ways—but, of course, they are still herbivores.)

It is rare that he does not win, and he breathes for the fight at the end of a chase.

There is one, however, that he isn't sure he's ever won against. Physically, he is stronger, faster, more willing to land a blow. He has never been beaten by that one's cunning or sneakiness. Many times, when they were younger, he left that one behind bruised or bleeding lightly as he stalked away for other prey.

Even so, he's never _won_. Sawada Tsunayoshi is too kind.

The little animal had long been his territory (his _home_ ) as much or more than Namimori had ever been. He looks on Hibari and welcomes him despite all his faults, despite that other humans (herbivores or not) usually fear him and shy away. And maybe, _maybe_ the Small Animal does too—but the instant Kyoya needs anything, that Omnivore is there to give it, even if Kyoya hits him with tonfa when he does.

Kyoya knows himself, knows that he would never be able to live in a normal society, that the herbivores have rules that he shatters even as he enforces his own (and the small animal's). He doesn't kill—the Omnivore frowns on that—but he would have a list of felony assault charges miles long if he tried to stay in a civilian life.

(He might have been recruited by the Triads, and he might just have been killed. The Omnivore had spared him that, and though he will never say it, he is grateful. Sawada Tsunayoshi is the Sky, who offers the drifting Cloud home and sanctuary but places no chains upon it. Every tie Kyoya has to him has been put in place by his own hands.)

 _xxxx_


	17. Wistful

_Sometimes, Tsuna missed being dame-Tsuna, middle-school klutz with a crazy baby running him around at gunpoint. He missed not being the one in charge._

 ** _Wistful_**

"I really… miss those days… sometimes," Tsuna blinked slowly, and Reborn didn't curse, didn't scold him.

Just pressed down harder and continued feeding him Flames. Talking was good. Keeping him talking was better, because Tsuna needed to stay awake. "Which days are those, Tsuna?" he asked, voice calm and casual in a way that was completely at odds with how he actually felt.

"Back… in Namimori," Tsuna coughed, and Reborn wove Sun into wounds he didn't think he could heal alone, praying that backup would get there soon. Gokudera had been at the mansion, and while Ryohei had come with them, he was unconscious.

Not in immediate danger, but unable to help, concussed at the least and Reborn couldn't take the time to wake and heal him because those precious minutes would leave him with one student lost, and he would _not_ allow that.

"Oh?" Keep him talking. Keep him _awake._

"When… you'd just… fix everything, if… I really… really needed it," his eyes slid half-closed, and Reborn redoubled his efforts, wishing fervently he'd learned to heal properly.

"Dame-Tsuna," he scolded, unable to force a harsh tone, "I never fixed things for you back then." He hadn't. Had, in fact, had it in his contract _not_ to. "I just pointed you at the problems and made you fix them yourself."

Tsuna gave a ragged laugh that dropped back into weak coughing, and then Reborn heard the familiar siren that had the extra tone of one of Vongola's ambulances. They'd have at least one backup Sun, and while Reborn couldn't fix this alone, the backup would have Tsuna out of danger. "Felt… like you… fixed it," he informed.

Had it really? "You never said that at the time," Reborn told him mildly as the ambulance drew closer.

"I thought… you were… an alien," Tsuna informed.

Reborn couldn't quite stop the snort.

"But you always…" he trailed off.

"Tsuna," Reborn said sharply.

Tsuna blinked his eyes open again, "You believed in me," he said, slow and slurred.

Yes, he had. Still did, for that matter.

Tsuna smiled, and an ambulance pulled to an almost dangerously rapid halt, three of their other Suns jumping out.

Shoichi, not usually on the healing team but far from incompetent, and one of their more skilled medical Suns immediately moved to help Reborn while Lussuria (Varia available, huh?) moved to check Ryohei.

In minutes, Tsuna's breathing got a whole lot easier, and Reborn no longer had to worry about sleep being permanent.

"You're being ridiculous," Reborn decided aloud. "Go to sleep, dame-Tsuna. You'll make more sense when you're not so tired."

 _xxxx_


	18. Zero-Point Revised and Harmony

_Because 'impossible' just doesn't apply to Tsuna, even when it should._

 _ **Zero-Point Revised and Harmony**_

It started out as a crazy idea.

Spanner had once told him that he'd been surprised to find that Tsuna really _could_ absorb Flames and convert them into usable energy himself. Getting a machine to do so—that was one thing, but for a _human body_ to manage? Quite surprising.

So, he knew that his 'Revised Edition' of Zero-Point Breakthrough wasn't exactly something people were _supposed_ to be able to do. Even Byakuran admitted that he never would have been able to take in unconverted Flames himself, and the only reason he'd managed in the Future that Would Not Be was because the other-him who had been… _warped_ by being pulled into that universe had still been _him,_ and hadn't been human enough for the conversion thing to be a problem to him. So he'd been essentially getting his _own_ Flames, the way the Arcobaleno could from the Pacifiers, which drained and _stored_ the some of Flames of their wielders alongside siphoning some to powering the Tri-ni-sette. Which meant they could take them _back,_ given enough effort.

A person would have no trouble taking in their own Flames, provided the availability was there. Reflecting someone's own Flames back at them would supposedly be pointless, because it wouldn't hurt them at all. To do so with someone _else's_ Flames, though…

Well, even Skies couldn't do that.

Or, so Tsuna was told. He didn't have much trouble with it, though. Sure, at first it had been hard, but now it was almost instinctive to take in outside Flames and convert them into his own.

It was all just energy, right? And his attribute was Harmony, so he could make it _his_ energy—make it _become_ one with his own Sky.

Then he got it into his head to try and take in nonliving energy.

Specifically, heat. He wanted to know if he could take the energy from _normal_ fire—or the heat of it, anyway—and convert it into his Flames.

Turned out he could, but it was kind of hard. It was nonliving energy, after all, and unless it was in contact with his skin, he had to kind of… reach out and _pull_ it in.

He took to practicing with the summer heat while doing his paperwork after turning off the air conditioner in his office. He wanted the ability to be familiar enough that he could do it while focused mainly on something else, because if he ever got in a fight where no one shot Flames at him, he wanted to be able to charge on whatever was available.

He _was_ getting better at it.

Then he got up to head for lunch one afternoon and Reborn's hand met his head as he stepped out the office door. It being Reborn, he didn't bother dodging and he was still in 'practice mode'.

Reborn's hand touched his head and stopped. Just—stopped. Not like it had hit something, but more like it hadn't been moving to begin with, falling down a few centimeters before Reborn blinked and regained control of the limb.

"Tsuna. What did you just do?"

The tiny jolt of energy wasn't even enough to fully offset the weariness of fingers that had been holding a pen for far too long, but… "Good question," he managed, trying to parse through what he'd actually done—heat directly against his skin could be pulled in as easily as Flames at this point, but thermal energy and _kinetic_ energy were very, very different things. Weren't they? "I… didn't actually expect that."

" _Tsuna._ "

"I think I absorbed the kinetic energy of the hit and subverted it to my use," he informed, still surprised that it had happened. But maybe nonliving energy was nonliving energy, and if he could take in one 'kind' why not another?

( _Because_ **_kinetic_** , his mind told him. _It should_ ** _hit_** ** _you_** _, not_ ** _cease moving._** )

Reborn opened his mouth, paused, and closed it again, frowning. After another moment, he tried again, looking so genuinely baffled that Tsuna had to work very hard not to laugh—Reborn _never_ looked confused. " _How?_ " he asked finally, very deliberately.

"I have no idea," he admitted. "I was playing around with doing that with thermal energy, and Spanner said: 'It's not possible, Vongola. The fact that you can do it with Flames is crazy enough,' but it's been working fine. I hadn't quite turned it off yet when you went to smack me."

Because it was kind of an on-and-off thing, a way that his own Flames hummed under his skin to take in the energy immediately available to him. Which—yes, ended with a layer of cold air, but _warm_ air moved in so fast it was more 'cool' than 'freezing'. And in an Italian mid-summer weather, 'cool' wasn't unappreciated.

"I'm going to shoot you," Reborn told him, pulling a gun.

"Somewhere non-fatal, please," Tsuna sighed, (Reborn wouldn't have given warning unless he didn't want Tsuna to dodge).

Reborn rolled his eyes and shot him in a way that should have just clipped his shoulder. Like with Reborn's hand, the bullet just _stopped_ before falling quietly to the ground, and Tsuna felt a slight flicker of increase in his available energy.

"That," Reborn informed matter-of-factly, "is both ridiculous and super cool. You are _keeping_ that. You are keeping that _on_ whenever you are in an even slightly dangerous situation. That is _hacking_ **_life_**. Also, you won't be taken out by a sniper."

"That wasn't even _me!_ " Tsuna protested. Just because his desperate not-him no-longer-possible future self had gotten sniped (on purpose) was no reason to think _he_ would! (Although, if he kept this absorb thing going, there was plenty of reason to think he _wouldn't._ )

Reborn only scoffed at him and moved to swat him again, and Tsuna grinned when that attempt also ended in failure.

Reborn scowled, but there was something like interested satisfaction in his eyes.

(The Hitman was right. It _was_ hacking life.)

 _xxxx_


	19. Similarity

_They're similar in many ways, and in others... not at all.  
_

 ** _Similarity_**

For a long time Dino had assumed Tsuna was just like he had been—young, resistant, clumsy, not really book-smart. While none of those things were _untrue,_ he'd forgotten something important, something that he should not have forgotten.

Dino Chiavarone had been born to his life, raised in it. He'd known the possibility was there from the moment he was old enough to understand the concept attached to 'Boss', and after over a year under the tutelage of the vicious little Arcobaleno hitman called 'Reborn', fully accepted that, yes, he really _was_ going to become the Cavallone* boss.

Sawada Tsunayoshi had not. In fact, Tsuna hadn't known his family _was_ Mafia, Iemitsu Sawada* having deliberately kept him in the dark until Reborn showed up on his doorstep.

It was one thing to be a resistant Mafia heir.

It was entirely something else to be a resistant civilian suddenly told you were going to be a Mafia heir, like it or not. Civilians were raised to civilian values, with certain things that some less savory Mafia famiglia got into utterly _taboo_ while even the 'upstanding' sorts allowed things that a civilian would balk at.

The fact that Tsuna was resistant… it took on a different meaning, with that in mind. It wasn't that he didn't want to be Boss, to be in charge and with all the associated responsibilities and dangers that went with. It was that he didn't want to be _Mafia._

Dino knew Reborn's methods, Reborn's pride. Tsuna would be Vongola Decimo whether he liked it or not. But…

Frankly, it was a miracle the kid hadn't broken—or gone the dangerous kind of crazy. He had power, all right, and after seeing him blast a four-meter hole through _stone_ with one flame-wreathed punch that didn't seem entirely serious…

A bullied civilian kid could well have snapped. Tsuna somehow hadn't, but he did _not_ want to be Mafia.

He would be Vongola Decimo, like it or not. But… it wasn't right. To force this on a civilian child. It was _cruel,_ really, and Dino wished he could step in, do something other than stand back and watch.

(He'd spoken to Reborn about it once, asked why.

Reborn had tilted his fedora down and replied with "Stupid Dino, if not me, who do you think they'd send to teach him? Dame-Tsuna wouldn't last a week with a normal Mafioso.")

Reborn was physically and mentally harsh. Dino knew this. But, on reflection, Reborn had never gone that step beyond, had never been _cruel_ , had been careful to stop at all the moments where pushing further would have been too far.

(Tsuna could just take so much _more_ than Dino had ever been able to.)

 _xxxx_

 _*Headcanon. Wiki claims 'Chiavarone' is correct, and that may be true—it certainly_ looks _more Italian, but since I don't speak Italian, I'm not sure. However the anime sub I watched used 'Cavallone', despite the phonetic sound they used (then again, Wiki says Luce's name is spelled without an 'h' and the sound of the pronunciation used is definitely 'Luche') but I figure if that's the case, I'm not going to protest either spelling and claim the more complicated one was for personal, non-Family business only, the shorter chosen for Famiglia because of ease of writing. Because, y'know, paperwork._

 _*I have a tendency to arrange names by convention of society belonged to and arrange how the characters address/think of people in a manner pertaining to how polite they are, what knowledge I think they have/should have, and 'personal' society. Dino was introduced to Tsuna in Japanese conventions, but Iemitsu's far more Italian than Japanese with his long-standing Mafia-boss-ness._


	20. Slip

_The deliberate and pre-planned use of the Ten-Year Bazooka does not, in fact, move them a full ten years. They are three months shy of that. Without the interference of the time machine, however, it transports people exactly ten years. Lambo is too young, too hyperactive to realize the situation he is in for only five minutes at a time while he is generally crying too hard to see clearly._

 _When Tsuna gets hit by the Bazooka six months before Shoichi's plans are put in play, it is coincidence. Accident._

 _And timed horribly._

 _Tsuna finds himself in an empty room, on a chair covered in blood. Those in his time are confronted with something altogether worse._

 ** _Slip_**

When the Ten-Year Bazooka goes off in a scuffle between Gokudera and Lambo and hits Tsuna while Reborn is trying to beat some math knowledge into his student's head, the hitman expected the smoke and the place-swap.

If he were honest (which he was, at least with himself) he was curious to see where his student stood in ten years.

When the clearing smoke showed a form lying still and Reborn caught the first whiff of blood-tang on the air, he jumped down from the table and ran to his (ten-year-older) student's side.

His heart froze in his chest, a sickening tightness, and he reached with trembling fingers to check for a pulse.

The body was still warm, a bloody patch spread out across its chest and Reborn's instinctive check proved that it was an exit-wound, that Tsuna had been shot from behind. From the otherwise neat attire, he'd been in or on his way to or from some kind of meeting.

 _Sniped._

Exactly ten years.

Gokudera fell still behind him as Lambo ran out of the room laughing, not having noticed. Reborn spared a silent thanks that the child was gone.

"Juudaime?"

It felt like he was hearing Gokudera's voice from a distance, but he was trying to sort out possibilities. They had ten years, ten years exactly. "Gokudera, write down the date and time. _Now."_

Tsuna's skin hadn't begun to cool and the blood wasn't even tacky. He'd been dead less than eight minutes. Perhaps less than five, and Reborn could only pray that _their_ Tsuna didn't come back dead, too. (Would that be a paradox? But Lambo was different every time, if only subtly. He knew of the Tri-ni-sette's abilities, so perhaps it was only snatching from timelines possible from where they stood at a given moment. Which meant this might not be _their_ Tsuna's future… but also meant that their Tsuna might well be dead.)

He could hear Gokudera obeying numbly, "Reborn, what…" the choked-off question asked everything at once.

"This is… he was shot from behind by a sniper rifle of some kind." Reborn didn't recognize the type exactly, but with a ten-year difference, that was probably because whatever it was hadn't yet been made. "Probably in a meeting. We can… if our Tsuna—" he cut himself off, but Gokudera's tortured keen meant the bomber understood. "We can prevent this," Reborn stated. "It's been barely minutes, he's still warm and the blood hasn't started to dry. If we're careful, we can _prevent_ this."

And then the smoke washed over him again, and their Tsuna was back, looking shocked with blood on his back. Reborn darted to look him over, to make sure it was only residue, that it wasn't _their_ Tsuna's blood.

"I'm fine," Tsuna said shakily, wide-eyed and pale. "I'm okay."

Gokudera fell to his knees beside them and when he pulled the Sky into a desperate pat-down himself, Tsuna didn't protest. "Juudaime," he breathed out, sounding broken.

"Tsuna. What happened?"

"I don't—I don't know," Tsuna managed. "There was a note on the table, but it wasn't signed. Just—mocking. Other than that and the blood, the room was empty, but the blood was still warm and so were the other chairs."

Treachery, then. Tsuna had been with trusted people, if there were no signs of alarm and the room had been so recently deserted.

Reborn felt sick.

His student had been shot down in a premeditated fashion by _traitors._ That was unacceptable.

"Dame-Tsuna. We're going to step up your training."

xxxx


End file.
